


Lullaby

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Praying That It'll Be You [13]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Consensual Mind Control, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: This particular foray into his little speedster’s sometimes chaotic mind is the result of Barry’s ever-worsening exhaustion. When he allows himself to rest, he often finds himself unable to quiet his mind enough to sleep. If all goes well, he’ll soon be able to trust Hartley to do so for him.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Hartley Rathaway
Series: Praying That It'll Be You [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562548
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	Lullaby

Barry goes down so beautifully. Hartley is, perhaps, wicked for thinking so, but he’s careful each time to get Barry’s permission. Watching how easily and happily he drops into trance eases his mind about controlling Barry’s. 

“Let your eyes close, sweet boy.” Hartley sets his flute on the coffee table. His eyes never leave Barry’s vacant ones, even when they fall closed. Unencumbered by his flute, he wraps an arm around Barry’s waist and coaxes, “Relax now. You’re safe, you can relax.”

Before he finishes talking, Barry slumps against his shoulder. His head falls into the crook of Hartley’s neck. Hartley adjusts him into a slightly more comfortable position and presses a chaste kiss to the top of Barry’s head. 

“So good for me.” Barry makes a soft, happy sound in his throat. Even (or especially) when he's deep in trance, he delights in being praised. Hartley can't resist pressing a chaste kiss to his brow. “How do you feel, sweet boy?”

“Good,” Barry mumbles. “Sleepy.” 

Hartley nods. This particular foray into his little speedster’s sometimes chaotic mind is the result of Barry’s ever-worsening exhaustion. When he allows himself to rest, he often finds himself unable to quiet his mind enough to sleep. If all goes well, he’ll soon be able to trust Hartley to do so for him. Hartley is not above using the same trigger to put an end to ill-advised all-nighters, which he can only assume Barry anticipates. “Good, Barry. You feel how sleepy you are? How heavy your body feels? How hard it is to keep a thought in your mind? Just let all of these feelings become more intense.”

Barry relaxes further against Hartley’s shoulder. His mouth drops open; out of habit, Hartley reaches up and closes it for him. He’s been drooled on before and refuses to let it happen again. 

“You’re going to feel this way every time I say ‘melt for me.’” They discussed the trigger phrase in depth. Hartley finds it absurd and melodramatic but sees the advantage: it isn’t something he’ll say by accident. (He’d advocated ‘relax now,’ but Barry pointed out that he says that fairly often, including times when Barry should under no circumstances fall asleep.) “Every time I say ‘melt for me,’ you’re going to fall asleep and stay asleep for half an hour. You’ll have no dreams—no nightmares. When that half an hour passes, you can choose to wake up or to stay asleep.”

Barry doesn’t respond. Hartley presses another kiss to the top of his head and murmurs, “I’m going to wake you up now, sweet boy. Three…two…one…wake up and open your eyes.”

Barry’s lashes flutter against Hartley’s neck. Before he can shift away from the unwelcome tickling, Barry sits up, his eyes alert but peaceful. Hartley kisses his brow and asks, “Feeling good?”

“Mhmm.” Barry makes a show of stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a stretch of freckled skin that Hartley would love to kiss. “Kinda sleepy, very relaxed. I’m sorta down for lazy sex, although I guess we could put that off until after you try the thing on me.” 

“Being hypnotized arouses you?” Hartley is mostly teasing. If they’re at home and safe, Barry is usually in the mood for sex; it’s part of his accelerated metabolism. Nor is Hartley averse to the idea of taking advantage of his drowsy comfort. 

“Well, kinda,” Barry admits. Hartley raises an eyebrow. They’ll have to return to that at a later date. “But also I’m all warm and lazy and I’d like it if you touched me.” 

Since it’s what he seems to want, Hartley slips a hand under Barry’s shirt and skims it over his stomach and chest. He purrs like a kitten and arches into Hartley’s caresses. In response, Hartley slips the other hand under his shirt and moves it in tandem with the first. “Do you want me to put you to sleep now?” he asks. “Or do you want me to fuck you?” 

“Uh.” Barry considers. “Sleep now, I guess. If you fuck me, we’ll have to shower and everything.” 

Hartley stifles a laugh. It’s a remarkably practical approach from his sweet, irrational speedster. “If you’re sure, sweet boy.”

Barry sits up and folds his hands in his lap. He resembles nothing so much as an eager student, but Hartley knows by now that it’s one of several ways he expresses impatience. “I’m sure,” he says. “We might as well try the thing you just trained me to…”

“Melt for me,” Hartley says. 

The effect on Barry is immediate: his eyelids droop, his jaw slackens, and he drops back against the sofa cushion as though he can’t keep himself upright. He puts up an admirable struggle for less than half a minute before his eyes fall closed. 

“You know, you ought to worry that you’re this suggestible,” Hartley remarks, knowing Barry won’t hear. While his speedster sleeps, he retrieves the most recent copy of _Advanced Materials_ and settles in for some quiet reading.


End file.
